


The Primrose Path

by chashuu



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, BUCKETS OF ANGST, Betrayal, Blindness, Disabilities, Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lancelot - Freeform, M/M, self-sacrificing lance, shance, shangst, warnings to be safe???
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2018-11-01 23:56:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10932669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chashuu/pseuds/chashuu
Summary: A mission had gone sideways. Lance loses his eyesight, and with it, loses what he feels is his only skill set that benefits the team. He’s no longer able to be the sharpshooter, and can no longer pilot as a Paladin of Voltron. Lotor offers him a means to regain his sight, only if he joins the Galra and serves under him. Lance decides to take the offer, hoping to somehow trick the Prince and take down Lotor on his own, to prove he can still be a Hero and Paladin. However, doing so would require him to have to become someone he never wanted to be, and turning traitor not only on his friends, but on the man he was in love with.





	1. Marigolds

\----

None of them had heard anything quite as horrifying as when Lance started screaming.

The mission had gone sideways; an ambush of more Galra troops than they had been prepared to handle. Lotor had been backing them into a corner left and right for weeks now, far more competent at leading counter attacks on Voltron than his father. He saw the bigger picture Zarkon couldn’t when it came to dominating the universe. He was driven to conquer with his own power, and seemed to care far less about acquiring Voltron to do so. Moreover, he seemed far more interested in wiping out the Defender all together, like a thorn in his side.

They hadn’t planned to free the people of this particular planet, they’d simply hoped to stop for supplies while traveling to another system, but the natives cried out to them for help. There wasn’t a major Galra presence, most likely due to the planet’s distance from the main forces and lack of any real advanced civilization, so they crafted a plan and carried it out. It hadn’t gone to hell until Lotor had shown up seemingly out of nowhere with his army.

They had escaped, managing to defeat Lotor’s forces into a retreat and liberate the planet, but they were just as worse for wear. Their lions took major damage, Lance and Hunk’s individual com lines going dead as their lion’s took the brunt of an especially visceral counter attack. By the time they got back to the ship and struggled to pry the two out of their cockpits, everyone was worn down but alive.

Lance had been unconscious, the cockpit shield windows blasted inward and crushed around him. His helmet’s visor had shattered while it was still attached to him, and the team shared worried looks between each other as they rushed him to a healing pod. Blood had caked Lance’s face and made a mess of him, they couldn’t be sure just how badly he’d been injured from the shattered glass.

Almost a full day later, Coran had been the one to tell them about the severity of the wounds to Lance’s eyes. The healing pod was doing it’s best to instantly seal and heal the superficial gashes, but the damage to the delicate structure of his cornea and iris was too critical. He couldn’t even finish explaining what would happen to Lance before they heard his muffled shouts.

They rushed into the room to find Lance hastily pounding at the pod window with one hand, the other pressed against his face. It was doubtful any of them would forget the sound of his voice getting louder and more frantic as the pod was opened and he came stumbling out, falling against Hunk’s chest and staring past him into nothing. It was like a dousing of cold water rushed over their spines and crawled across their skin.

“What gives, guys? I-I can’t see! Why can’t I see?! H-hey, guys-- what’s happening, what’s with this?! why can’t I see?!”

Shiro and Hunk had to restrain him as the panicked touches he was making around his eyes turned all too quickly into his fingers scraping over his face, reopening the half-healed scars that now covered the soft skin of his under-eye and lids. Hunk winced away, unable to meet the bloodshot milky white that stared out at nothing.

Allura had them put Lance back into the stasis pod until his stats evened out. Shiro had held him tightly, telling him he was okay, that everything was going to be alright when he woke up. He’d never seen Lance like that before. None of them had. He’d been completely undone, nothing like his usual calm and cool reaction they’d all taken for granted in situations of distress. Lance had never been the one in the team to let his emotions take over his actions or get the better of him. It chilled Voltron’s paladins, and they feared when he would be brought out of stasis to face what had happened.

Shiro stared out of the ship’s massive bay windows into empty space, touching where his flesh met up against his metal arm. He could understand, somewhat, the trauma of having a part of your body destroyed. However, even without the Galra tech that made up his arm’s replacement, he was still able to be a Voltron paladin. 

Without his eyesight, things would become very… difficult for Lance.

“There’s nothing that can heal them?” Keith asked, pacing back and forth in front of Allura’s command station. Keith had only stopped pacing since they got back to the castle to hole himself up in the training simulator. The Princess sighed and worried at her bottom lip.

“Not in this ship, no. I’m sure the technology to help him exists somewhere in the galaxy, but I can’t promise it.” she said quietly. “I’ve been in stasis for centuries, so I’m certain great advancements have been made in allied planets with Altea. Even the Galra could possibly have created something-”

“No.” Shiro said firmly before more could be said about that. Keith stopped pacing to look over at the harsh tone of his interjection. “I know better than anyone the price you have to pay for Galra Empire enhancements.” 

Allura’s lips went thin, but she nodded. Keith resumed pacing. None of it was getting them anywhere.

“What are we going to do when he wakes up?” Pidge said softly from her perch on the lounge cushions. “Even if he doesn’t react like… that again, we have to do something to help him.” She’d been silent since they’d put Lance back in stasis, without a doubt rattled from seeing her friend react so fevered.

“We will, it’ll just take time.” Shiro replied, giving her a tight smile he hoped was reassuring. She looked away and tucked her chin against her knees, so it probably wasn’t.

“We’ll check the medical centers of the nearest technologically advanced solar systems,” Allura said, pulling up the ship’s galaxy map and beginning to run through lines of code. “It’s difficult to say which would have anything that could help him, most of the advanced planets have already been fully occupied by Galra, but we’ll do everything we can. Keeping Lance a functional part of Voltron is top priority, especially now that Lotor is involved.”

Shiro frowned.

“Getting him well again is top priority regardless of his being Blue Paladin.” he said firmly.

“Shiro, she didn’t mean it like that.” Keith said, pausing his pacing. “We know he’s going to need help, but there’s the added problem of not being able to form Voltron without him. I’m sure Lance is going to be worried about it too.” 

He looked worried himself, and Shiro wondered briefly where that worry was really directed.

“Listen, Lance is our friend first and foremost. We need to find a way to get his vision back because we care about him as a person, not as a weapon.” Shiro snapped. Keith looked ready to retort, but Allura held a hand up to signal it was best to let the subject drop. Shiro felt himself getting more and more frustrated, this whole situation hitting much too close to home for him. A person being valued as a weapon over their humanity was not something he would tolerate from his own team. He understood their point, but it wasn’t the time for it.

“I’m going to go check on him, see if he’s stable yet.” he muttered, and while he did want to check on Lance, it was more an excuse for him to leave the awkward silence of the command deck. He heard Pidge’s quick footsteps run behind him and they walked through the halls toward medbay together. He put an arm around her tiny shoulders, and she brought herself closer to his side.

Hunk was where he’d been for the last 26 hours, directly in front of Lance’s healing pod. He looked worn and tired, looking through sheets of paper and designs for some kind of mechanical object Shiro couldn’t understand. Pidge rushed to the Yellow Paladin’s side and began shuffling through one of the piles.

“Any improvement?” Shiro asked, moving to stand behind Hunk. The younger man sighed.

“Yes and no. He’s completely stable, but that’s probably just because he’s gone back into sedation. He’ll probably naturally wake up on his own in a couple hours. I never thought I wouldn’t be looking forward to him getting out of one of those things.” he said, rubbing his jaw wearily. Shiro nodded.

“What’s all that?” he asked, gesturing to the papers Pidge was now scribbling notes on. Hunk scoffed.

“An attempt at something I’m way not qualified for.” he grumbled. “I figured if there wasn’t any miracle space cure that could fix his eyes, maybe I could make some kind of, i dont know, virtual reality goggles for him or something. But this kind of thing goes beyond what I even understand.”

“I’ve been trying to help too,” Pidge said, giving her own sigh that sounded much older than she was “I can write code like its nothing and Hunk can build and fix anything mechanical, but this is… none of us have any understanding of human biology. Mechanics and engineering don’t mean anything if we don’t know how the human eye works. Plus it’s not like just any human.. It’s Lance..”

Her eyes darted to the boy in the pod, and quickly looked away, dragging her gaze up to Shiro.

“He’s our sharpshooter, Shiro..” she reminded him miserably. He knew what she was getting at, and walked closer to the frosted glass separating Lance from them. It was different than the way Keith and Allura had said it. Lance was their actual Sharpshooter, yes, but it was an endearing title they’d accepted with amusement after he’d decided on it himself and proved it in battle. He’d tried to hide it, but everyone could tell how ecstatic taking up the nickname had made Lance. 

Shiro prayed that Allura found a planet with someone that could help him soon.

The wounds caused by the shattered visor glass that covered Lance’s eyes had been flash-healed into terrible scars criss-crossing over one another. Shiro thought his own scar across the bridge of his nose was difficult to look at, but these cruel gashes had marred Lance’s eyes into a terrible mess of pale discoloration. Everything between his thin eyebrows and down to the middle of his cheeks was a crosshatch of raised scar tissue. Even if they could bring back his eyes, these scars would remain. 

“He still is our sharpshooter.” Shiro said resolutely, turning from the cryopod to his fellow paladins. “We’ll get him all fixed up. We’re pilots of giant robot lions defending the Universe from an evil Empire, I’m sure the technology to fix his eyes is on any one of these nearby planets.”

\--

“They’re all under control of the Galra.” Allura said. Shiro’s stomach dropped.

“What about ones that would take us farther out?” Hunk asked, hands fisted at his sides. The princess shook her head, tucking away a strand of her usually soft and clean silver hair that had become unkempt and neglected in their shared distress.

“I scanned the feasible territories with the strongest likelihood to have anything that could help, nothing came up.” she said. “No Free Planets, anyway.”

“So we go in undercover.” Keith said, and Shiro knew that was frustration talking for him.

“You know we can’t, Keith.” Shiro sighed. 

“Why not? We did at that stupid mall.”

“That was _with_ Lance. We had a full team on hand.” Pidge replied, “Lance is hurt, we can’t afford to have our cover blown and risk having to fight without him. If Lotor jumps us like last time, we put all of our safety in jeopardy.”

Shiro would be proud of her practicality if not for the circumstances. Pidge was usually one of their more 'driven' members, however silent she may be in her planning. It was nice to see her finally voicing her opinions rather than keeping them internalized until the last minute, and Shiro resented the current state of affairs that overshadowed the progress.

“So then what?” Hunk said, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “What are we supposed to do? How are we going to get his vision back?”

Shiro closed his eyes at the silence, because he knew the answer as well as the rest of them.

“For the time being, we can’t. We’ll have to move forward with the assumption Lance is permanently blind.”

\----

When Lance wakes up, he’s still in the dark.

His mind is groggy, and he’s in a mix of wondering if he had woken up at all, and hoping he hadn’t yet. He’s much calmer now, and has enough consciousness to realize that it’s probably from residual sedation, but really it’s only enough to let him find and push the release button on the inside of the pod doors.

He hears them hiss up, but doesn’t see them.

He doesn’t see anything.

“G-guys-?” he half whispered, but his voice sort of cracked halfway out. His feet are bare on the cold metal floors, and he freezes as he walks across what feels like papers strewn underfoot. Carefully, he kneeled down to try and collect them into a pile again, hands reaching out to search for what he couldn’t see. The image of people waking up in abandoned hospitals at the start of zombie movies flashed in his mind, and a wave of anxiety fights against his rapidly waning drug-induced calm. 

_“It’s going to be okay, Lance. You’re safe, we have you. I have you. We need you to calm down first.”_

He dragged in a breath to level his heartrate, the inhalation not nearly as steady as it would be before he took a long distance target shot. 

“Hello? H-hey, please tell me I’m not really alone on the ship with zombies or something...” He called out. More silence, and more deep black. Lance dragged one hand up to his face, not needing to see it to know his fingers were trembling as badly as they felt. 

The skin around his eyes felt foreign, like it wasn’t really his own face he was touching. He traced the raised scar tissue, a rough contrast against the skin he tried so hard to keep smooth and blemish free. So much of it, jagged lines covering everything across the bridge of his nose down to his cheeks.

So this was why he couldn’t see. He nearly gagged with a lurch of nausea at the extent of it. 

“Guys- please, anyone?” his cheeks felt warm, arms going numb from the increasing speed of his heartbeat. Was he even still on the ship? Allura’s ship? Did they intend for him to stay in stasis for longer than he had? How long had he been sleeping? A week? Ten thousand years?  
“Okay. Okay.” he fisted a handful of the papers under his palms, feeling sick and faint with the idea of not only waking up alone, but completely unaware of how long he’d been out and not being able to see a thing.

He barely heard the door hiss open or the thudding of boots that chased it, but he anchored halfway back into whatever reality he’d woken up in when a strong arm was wrapped around his shoulders.

“Lance! Are you with me?” Shiro was speaking urgently but so softly, it was a shame it didn’t calm him down as much as he’d like. 

“I really don’t know, man.” Lance replied, letting Shiro pull him up onto his feet where he stood mostly supported by the older man’s forearms. “I can’t see. Sh-Shiro, I can’t see.”

“I know.” Shiro answered. Lance felt the air push out of his lungs, his knees weakening even more that this was real. Shiro held him up firmly, letting him nearly hang off his arm while he kept him standing.

“I’m going to page Coran and the others in, they’ll all want to make sure you’re alright. We wanted someone to be with you when you woke up, but we only just barely got Hunk to agree to get some sleep. He’d been sitting out here waiting for you for almost a full day.”

Lance was barely catching what his team leader was explaining; hearing it, but not registering it as anything that mattered. He felt Shiro leading him over to a bench, settling him before stepping back over to the doorway to page out, but he couldn’t register much else.

He couldn’t see.

“I can’t see.”

Shiro took his thumb off the paging system button, the holographic notification flickering out of sight and up to the command deck. He turned and fixed Lance with a long, difficult sort of stare.

“I know.” he repeated. Lance wanted so badly not to give in to panic. He wanted to go back to sleep, wanted to be back at home, he wanted to hear it wasn’t happening. He wanted to see whatever way Shiro was looking at him.

“Why? It’s like- it’s something fixable right? The pod couldn’t fix it but Allura knows what to do right?” he asked, continuing to touch the scars across his face. Shiro’s boot steps returned quickly to his side and Lance flinched when the Black paladin pulled Lance’s away. He recalled a brief flash of memory of himself clawing at his own face.

“I’m going to have you wait for Coran to explain, okay?” Shiro said, his tone low and calm. Lance was about to protest, but cut himself off when he heard the distinct thudding of rapid footsteps on metal, and the medbay (was this medbay? He couldn’t even tell) door hissed open again.

“Lance!” Pidge shouted, rushing and throwing herself around Lances middle. “We paged Hunk, he’s coming! I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“Am I?” he quavered, and realized he probably wasn’t looking at her. Still, like instinct, he hugged her back. That was when he’d realized Shiro had still been holding one of his hands, up until the arrival of Pidge and whoever else came in following after her. In another setting, under different circumstances, that probably would have been something incredibly significant to him.

“You will be!” Coran’s voice cheered from off to the right of him, and Lance felt an incredible amount of weight lifted out of his gut. He’d be okay?

“Coran! You can’t tell him that when we don’t know for sure.” Keith interjected. Lance’s head whipped off to the left and all too quickly he was confused again. He heard Shiro sigh with thinly veiled aggravation.

“W-wait, which is it? I’m okay right? Like, there’s some kind of alien mumbo-jumbo that’ll fix this no problem, yeah?” he asked to whoever had the answer for him.

“Lance,” came Allura’s voice and her light footsteps walking (hesitantly) toward him. He didn’t like how her tone sounded, like there was nothing in her left but pity. “Your eyes themselves were heavily damaged down to retinal tissue by the combination of your visor’s glass and the hologram technology inside malfunctioning and burning down to the optic nerves.”

“Okay… I don’t know what any of that means, but there’s some kind of space junk that’ll fix it right?” he followed. There was silence for a beat and thought he couldn’t see them, Lance could feel them glancing at each other.

“Not on this ship, no.” Allura answered. Lance hooked his hand onto the loose fold of Pidge’s sleeve, and the girl quickly put her own hand over his.

“We can go to a planet and get something though, yeah?”

More silence, again. Lance’s knuckles fisted white in the green material clutched in his fingers, and Pidge’s thumb started to rub across them reassuringly. It wasn’t working.

“That’s not currently an option.” Keith replied. 

Lance knew Shiro’s arm went around his shoulder, and he knew the door opened and Hunk ran to wrap his own arms around him and Pidge. He knew it was happening, but he couldn’t see it.

He couldn’t see.

He was the Sharpshooter. That’s who he was. The pilot of the Blue Lion, member of the Legendary Voltron.

And he couldn’t see.


	2. Thyme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro realizes he doesn't know Lance very well, and Lance tries to be Lance.

Things had finally started to calm down.

In the days following Lance waking up and the news being broken to him, the others appeared much more open to taking care of their own need for rest. Knowing Lance wasn’t about to claw at his own face again -instead having lapsed into a much more internalized state of shock- put them all in a sort of stable tension. Most of the ship members went to get much needed sleep, Coran switching on and off with Allura in the search for a technology-rich planet not under Galra control. They had decided to also stay away from planets within range of Galran forces that could get the jump on them, which left even less to choose from. 

Shiro rolled his shoulders as he walked toward the command deck, muscles stiff from a restless and overall uncomfortable attempt at sleep. It was hard to silence his brain enough to manage the few hours he did, and eventually he gave up, deciding instead to take over for whoever was keeping an eye on Lance.

The Blue paladin was being looked after in shifts, everyone agreeing to take turns staying with him while they all caught up on rest after the battle that took his eyesight. It wasn’t so much that they wanted to make sure he didn’t have another fit, but more that it just felt wrong to leave him by himself.

“Quiznack!” He heard Pidge curse as he approached the top of the command deck platform.

“Language.” he scolded as he came to join her, wearily rubbing the back of his neck. She frowned up at him quickly and looked back down at the piles of notes scattered around her on the floor.

“It’s not like it’s _our_ language.” she muttered.  


“You and I both know what word it’s replacing. Go get some rest, you’re the last one who needs to catch up before we’re all synced again.” he took a seat on the lounge area in front of the large open windows that stretched around the castleship’s cockpit.

Lance was standing with his back to them both, one hand on the glass and staring out into the stars. Now though, just blackness to him. Shiro couldn’t even fathom what he must be thinking.  
Pidge stood and collected her notes, rushing to Lance’s side and touching his hand to get his attention.

“I’m going to sleep now Lance, but I promise I’ll keep working on something that’ll help you when I wake up. Hunk’ll be awake by then too, so we’ll both keep at it. We’ll design something awesome for you okay?” she said, her small hand gently reassuring him with unbroken contact. 

Shiro could see how badly she missed her brother in the way she treated all of them, but Lance had seemed like an especially close surrogate for Matt. It wasn’t surprising; Lance had mentioned coming from a large family with lots of siblings, he was an ideal older brother. Pidge had always had him wrapped around her finger in the most affectionate of ways. If Lance realized this, he never seemed to care.

Surprisingly, Lance gave Pidge a slight smile (the first Shiro had seen since before everything had gone to hell on that damn planet) and gently patted her hand back, eyes not able to meet hers as he was clearly attempting to.

“Thanks Pidgie.” he said, his voice rough and not nearly as cheerful as they were used to hearing. “Go count some robot sheep.”

She hesitated, staring up at Lance’s face with a searching expression Shiro was glad Lance couldn’t see. She gave his hand a quick squeeze and made her way out of the command room, rushing quickly past Shiro with her head downcast. He’d already seen the glossiness to her eyes behind her glasses.

Lance turned around to face him, leaning against the glass that separated them from the vast emptiness of this quadrant of space, arms crossed and hugged tightly to himself. 

“How’re you doing?” Shiro asked, hoping it wasn’t as dumb a question as he realized it probably sounded. Lance’s gaze was down at the floor a few feet away from where Shiro sat, and he quirked his more heavily scarred eyebrow.

“Well, other than, you know-” here he waved a hand rapidly in front of his blank white eyes, “-just great.”

Shiro sighed. “I meant more along the lines of if you were still in any pain, Lance.”

“Oh, then no. Kind of sore, but that seems sort of low priority at the moment.”

An awkward silence followed that Shiro wished he hadn’t created. He was starting to realize quickly that while he knew Lance, superficially considered him an admirable person, a talented teammate, and a loyal friend, he didn’t know how to talk to him. Not one-on-one anyway. 

He’d honestly seen Lance as being a very ‘specialized’ Paladin. When it came to needing someone to keep a cool head and take a shot, naturally, they chose their sharpshooter. However, even he could admit Lance rarely came first to his mind when they needed something done on a mission that he’d almost instantly choose Keith to accomplish outright. He knew the boy had incredible skill when he was called upon, but hindsight allowed Shiro to begin realizing how little he did call on him. 

Even during down-time at the castle, Shiro very much didn’t make efforts to get to know him on any sort of deeper level. He knew Lance much more at face-value than he did Keith or Pidge. Even Hunk had shown more of his true personality around Shiro than Lance had. The most in-depth thing he knew about Lance was that the boy tended to have a self-sacrificing fault, something he only noticed because of the effect it would have on the team when Lance went down, allowing everyone else to accomplish whatever task was at hand. He’d meant to talk to him about it, kept meaning to find the time. Something would always come up, including moments Shiro himself just didn’t feel up for another heart-to-heart. He wasn’t enjoying the guilt that came from that thought.

He wished he could get to know Lance again from the start; know how to talk to him or get him to let down the walls he’d always sort of acknowledge the boy had, but never really had the presence of mind to get past. It worried him that while he had been devoting so much of his mental energy to helping Keith, Lance had been not just an asset he’d allowed go to waste, but a friend he could have known the nuances of. 

Maybe then he’d know what to say right now, sitting in a heavy silence and feeling very much like he was toeing the edge of an active land-mine. Hunk would know what to say. Hunk knew Lance, took the time and effort to understand him. Shiro didn’t know what made him feel worse: that he’d failed as a leader and a friend, or the idea that this kind of circumstance is what forced him to realize it. 

“You guys don’t have to watch me.” Lance suddenly said, “I have the route to my room memorized, and I won’t go crazy again.”

“I know you won’t.” Shiro said quietly. He wanted to say that that was his honest feeling, but- no, he caught himself doing it again. Putting up a front for the sake of not making things difficult or awkward was what made him keep Lance an arm’s distance all this time. It’s the reason he didn’t know how to talk to him now, and the response was nearly like instinct. If he didn’t change the way he handled the other members of the team, he was going to keep making things worse.

“Actually, no, Lance,” he stood up, and the Blue Paladin’s blank white eyes searched for a place to lock onto where Shiro might be. The older man tried to step with a heavier footfall as he came closer to give Lance a heading. 

“You lost your vision. You won’t just be ‘okay’ with that.” he said firmly. “Something vital to you was taken from you without your permission. I need you to know I understand what you must be feeling right now.”

Lance’s scarred brows furrowed, and he shook his head.

“You don’t have to compare this to what happened with you, man.” he mumbled, side stepping and tilting his head away from Shiro. 

“I’m not. I’m able to go about my life normally without my natural arm, Lance.” here Lance scoffed at the use of the word ‘normal’. Shiro chose to ignore it for now.

“Our circumstances are different, but I know about what comes after a major trauma like this. We’re keeping an eye on you not because we’re expecting you to freak out again, but because when you do -and you will- we want to be with you so you don’t go through it alone.”

Shiro reached out to put his hand on Lance’s shoulder, and Lance’s head pitched toward the contact with an expression of mild surprise. The younger man stared at it for a long moment, as if considering something not quiet clear, then shut his eyes and sighed. Shiro took that moment to really look at the extent of the scarring across Lance’s eyelids. He was glad it wasn’t causing him any physical pain with how severe it all was.

“I know. I appreciate it. It’s just… I’m kind of not really sure what to do with myself right now.” the Blue paladin said quietly. “You guys are all trying to do things to help me but I’ve been just like, standing around. Or sitting. You know Keith offered to train with me earlier? Keith doesn’t ‘offer’ to do anything with me.”

“Yeah, I know, he’s bad at that..” Shiro said, moving to lean against the thick window glass next to him. “I don’t see any new bruises, I’m assuming you didn’t take him up on it.”

Lance gave him a look. “Uh, yeah, ‘Rambo The Kid’ versus a guy who’s only real combat skill was being able to look really carefully at things, who is now completely blind? How would you think that went down?”

Shiro frowned, and tried to carefully pick his battle from all the points he wanted to argue in that response.

“I take it that was a ‘no’ from you, then.”

Lance shook his head.

“I told him ‘sure’.” he said, and pulled his arms closer against himself. “Keith couldn’t do it. Or well, ‘wouldn’t’. Said it ‘wasn’t a fair fight’ and he ‘didn’t want to just beat on me when I’m defenseless’. Boy that felt the opposite of great, let me tell you.”

‘ _Damnit, Keith,_ ’ Shiro mentally cursed with a wince.

“I’m uh- yeah, I’m sorry for him.” he said awkwardly, scratching at his chin. Lance hummed in recognition that Shiro supposed was something akin to forgiveness. It was fortunate they both knew how Keith was with his people skills and lack thereof.

“Have you gone to check on Blue yet?” Shiro asked, hoping a conversation change would get the ball rolling smoother.

Lance perked up at the mention of his Lion, and Shiro nearly exhaled audibly in relief. That boy had a connection with his Lion that the others just didn’t. Lance bonded with the sentient machine in a way that had a lot to do with that aspect of his personality Shiro had found himself wanting to know more about. A machine of legend that saw instantly in Lance, within seconds of their arrival, what Shiro had been overlooking for months now, and was set on discovering for himself.

“Yeah, Hunk took me down to the hanger yesterday.” Lance said, and Shiro felt himself smile as some cheer came back to Lance’s tone. “Coran has been fixing her back up, said she’d be ‘right n’ ready in a shake of a Snarlock’s tail’. I’m gonna assume that meant ‘soon’.”

“Has she said anything to you?” Shiro inquired. He watched as the smile on Lance’s face suddenly tightened in a way Shiro recognized as Lance’s ‘Don’t Worry About Me’ defence mechanism, and the younger paladin turned away again to stare into nothing.

“She doesn’t really say anything.” he muttered, one hand rubbing at his upper arm. “But I heard what she feels.”

“And what was that?” 

Lance touched at his face, fingers tracing over the raised scar tissue contrasting against the evenness of his cheeks. The fake smile didn’t have much effort in it anymore.

“She was sorry. She was so, so sorry.”

Shiro let them lapse back into silence. 

One step forward, and two back.

\---

Lance groaned, grabbing his hair in frustration.

It was bad enough he was blind, but apparently now he was just the Castle Bummer. Ever since the incredibly awkward night of his and Shiro’s talk, Lance had been a mess of embarrassed regret that he let his hero see him whine so pathetically. Did he say anything that wasn’t true? No, but that absolutely did not help the mortification that took over once Shiro had left him for the night. He could not believe he’d gotten so morose in one of the incredibly rare moments their Leader had ever spent with him, one-on-one.

He groaned again, louder this time, with more feeling. Hunk kicked at his sneaker to get his friend’s attention.

“What’s got you, man?” the Yellow paladin asked, swallowing a bite of fruit as he tinkered away at one of the most recent attempts at their cure for blindness. He’d brought Lance down to the hangers where he could be close to Blue while Coran finished her up, the massive robotic beast apparently providing some added comfort to the newly blind boy.

“You mean other than the obvious?” Lance sighed. Hunk threw a wingnut at him, which hit Lance dead on in the chest and earned Hunk a startled yelp.

“Dude, c’mon, obviously not.” the bigger boy said with an awkwardly embarrassed tone, “I meant that classic ‘Oh I’m Lance and I sure wish I hadn’t done something I am now getting myself bent out of shape for’ sigh.”

“Wh- I do not have a ‘classic’ sigh! How can you be so mean to me? I’m blind dude!” Lance shouted, feeling around for the thrown wingnut and hurling it back at him. Hunk watched as it sailed over his left shoulder and down the catwalk, clattering to the hanger below.

“That was meant for your face, I hope you know.”

“Yeah noted.” Hunk rolled his eyes. “Come on. What happened? You know I’m open to talking about anything you want with things being so- uh, different now, but I don’t know man, I feel like something else is eating at you aside from the accident. If you don’t want to say anything that’s fine, but more stress is kind of the last thing you need.”

Lance dug his nail into the rubber of his sneaker’s sole, picking at it despite them being his only pair out in space. He couldn’t see them anymore anyway, so he found himself no longer particularly caring about their upkeep.

“Nothing.” He mumbled, and when Hunk stayed silent but let his gaze burn into Lance, there was another frustrated sigh. 

“Fine! I was super awkward around Shiro when he came to see me. He was only trying to help me ‘open up’ or whatever and I totally kept steering every conversation into the ground.”

He heard Hunk set down whatever tool he was working with to give more of his attention.

“Well, y’know Lance, none of us are really expecting you to be your usual self these days.” he said, “Even right now this is probably the closest I’ve gotten to seeing you acting normally since- well… y-you know.”

Lance wanted to not let the way Hunk skirted around saying too much about him being blind now bother him, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. It wasn’t like Hunk was avoiding the topic entirely, just that he seemed to avoid stating the facts for what they were. Like openly saying ‘you lost your eyesight’ somehow made it more real for him in a way it already was for Lance.

“Yeah I know.” was all he said back. 

“Listen, man” Hunk continued, “I get why it’s different with Shiro, I do. No one would want to be at their lowest in front of the person they liked.” Lance’s head shot up with a start, the scars across his eyes feeling tight with how high his eyebrows raised.

“What?!” he exclaimed.

“What ‘what’? It happens to everyone, you want to seem strong when you’re around the person you l-”

“Dude! Not ‘what’ like that, ‘what’ like THAT!”

“You lost me.” 

Lance scooted forward hastily on his knees, feeling with his hands until he was able to crawl close against Hunk and grab his vest lapels.

“Dude, how the heck did you know about that!” he hissed, mortified as he felt his face heating up. There was a pause before Hunk replied.

“Uh, was it supposed to be secret?” 

“Well damn, Hunk, I thought it was!” he cried, hoping with everything he had that Coran was out of earshot and no one else had come upon them quietly enough that he couldn’t hear them.

“Really? Maybe it was just kind of obvious to me because I’ve known you the longest. You had a picture of him over your bed, dude.” Hunk said. Lance yelped and slapped his hand over Hunk’s mouth (which he had to do twice as the first time he slapped him in the eyes).

“Poster! It was a poster! A garrison issued Kerberos mission poster! Lots of people had those! Most of Pidge’s family was in that poster too!” he reasoned hastily. Hunk pulled his face away from Lance’s hand with a cough.

“Yeah but you folded them out of frame.” he muttered under his breath, but Lance heard him perfectly.

“Seriously dude, please tell me I wasn’t obvious since we all came here?” he begged, running his hands back through his hair. 

“Uh, well, not really? I definitely don’t think Shiro knows at all. Like, even slightly.” the Yellow paladin reassured him. Lance huffed and covered his face.

“Well that’s good. I guess me not even being on his radar has some benefits.” he said. Hunk frowned.

“Is that what’s got you?”

Lance pressed his knuckles to his mouth, exhaling through his nose.

“He finally came to me on his own and it had to be because I’m all messed up and helpless now.” he said quietly. “He barely ever saw me all this time, and now when he does, go figure, I can’t even see _him_.”

Hunk shook his head.

“You’re not helpless, man. We’re going to get you all fixed. I’m sure Shiro understands. I mean, if anyone understands what you’re going through, it’s gonna be him. You can always try talking to him again, he tried to get you to open up once, I doubt that shut him down for good if you show you want to try.”

Lance let the advice settle in his thoughts, and after a moment Hunk went back to work on his project. Another future failure, Lance would be sure. Not for lack of faith in his friend’s skill or anything intentionally bitter, but they just didn’t have the knowledge needed to mesh engineering with physiology. He appreciated so much that they were all trying so hard for his sake; to fix him. Fix the broken piece, and get their friend back.

He resented how quickly the feelings of inadequacy surfaced now that he was blind. The feeling of second guessing himself morphing into an ugly knowledge of just how useless he really was now. Even now, Hunk was using one of his many talents to fix the problem Lance had created, while the Blue paladin couldn't even get any of them to spar with him while he was 'broken'. Still relying on the talents of others more capable than he was to get the real work done.

He felt a sudden warm wave of concerned questioning wash over an instinctive part of his mind; a foreign inquiry that read like the worry of a loved one. It felt like when his mother would tilt his chin down to look at her, her dark brown eyes crinkled with distress over whatever trouble he’d gotten himself into at the time, worried her son was suffering in ways he wouldn’t tell.

“I’ll be okay.” he thought, turning his head toward where he knew his Lion to be. Her emotions flitted through his mind like a kaleidoscope; teals and dark blues, some cool charcoal greys.

He stared into nothing, wishing she wasn’t so sad for him. He wished he wasn’t so sad for himself. Or that the others didn’t have to be so worried for this broken piece. He wished he knew what he could do to help them.

And then the castle’s alarms started blaring loudly overhead.

Hunk dropped whatever tool that had just become unimportant. Lance didn’t need his eyesight to know what the flashing warning overhead was announcing. He just stared into nothing, a panicked sickness in his throat as Hunk confirmed it through clenched teeth.

“Galra.”

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comments! For those of you who recognize this fic as having been mentioned on my social media accounts, I'm glad you found it and hope you enjoy the ride!


	3. Chamomile

\---  
Ch. 3

Chamomile  
\---

Hunk had begged Lance, actually begged him, to stay in a safe-room.

It sounded like it was painful for him to do the entire time he was frantically trying, guiding Lance by the shoulders with all the haste expected in a sudden attack. Lance, to his credit, put up a fair fight, latching on to the doorway out of Blue’s hanger like a child.

“Come on man, I don’t want you getting hurt!” Hunk stressed, releasing Lance but keeping a hand on his shoulders.

“Then go!” Lance nearly shouted, gesturing with dismissing motions toward where he really hoped the corridor lead off to. 

“Damnit, Lance- you know I can’t just leave you right now!” Hunk swore, and Lance was momentarily taken aback. He’d almost never heard the bigger boy sound so frustrated, and there was something sickly in Lance’s gut knowing why. As far as Hunk was concerned, Lance was a vulnerability he couldn’t just leave alone during a bombardment. And Lance knew he was right. 

“Then just leave me in the hanger!” he bargained, “I’ll stay with Blue! Just don’t make me go to a safe room, Hunk. _Please_.”

He got a worried groan from his friend in return, drawn out and sounding as annoyed as the expression Lance knew he must be wearing. The alarms overhead silenced, but Lance knew the warning holograms were still flashing brightly, calling for the Paladins. After a moment of silence that felt much too long, Hunk sighed in resignation.

“Alright! Fine! But please, _please_ , stay in Blue and don’t move, okay?!” the Yellow paladin begged, quickly grabbing Lance’s arm and leading him back toward where Lance knew Blue to be. When Hunk set Lance’s hand down to touch the cool metal of her massive claw, only then did he release him and begin stepping away.

“One of us will come get you once we get out of whatever’s going on out there,” Hunk half-shouted, rushing to the elevators at the other end of the hangar. “I’m serious Lance, just sit tight and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Go, Hunk!” Lance shouted back, his back pressed against Blue’s paw. 

“Lance, tell me you understand that you’re being seriously unfair to me right now by making me do this.”

“.. I’m sorry.” 

He was.

There was a pause for a beat, and then Hunk left. Lance immediately called for Blue to let him in.

He might not be worth much on his own right now, blinder than a bat and without a heading other than ‘toward the fight’, but Blue was perfectly capable of being his eyes. Entering the cockpit felt odd without seeing where he was going, but his path through Blue was familiar to him as she let him up. Sometimes it was even like the feeling of coming back home when he stepped inside her.

His heart hammered in his ears as he came up with some form of game plan for when she took him out to the battle. He’d have to trust her almost entirely, and take shots at the exact moment she gave him the clear to; couldn’t afford to be out of synch by even a fraction of a second. It wasn’t a problem though, he trusted the old machine with everything he had. 

He was without his Voltron uniform, but really all Lance needed was his bayard for this anyway, which sat at his hip heavy and taunting. It was fine. Blue was going to be his eyes for this, she’d never steer him wrong and would fight by his side no matter what it took.

Though that all came to a halt when he strapped himself in, feeling for the energized thrum of controls kicking on, and was met with only silence. No familiar hum of illuminated controls, no lights to see activate, no movement at all.

“Blue!” Lance shouted, his fingers digging into the armrests of the pilot seat “Let’s go!! The hangar is open, take us out!”

But all he felt was a kaleidoscope of dark navy swirling through his mind, like droplets of ink diluted into a cup of water. 

Blue’s firm _‘No’._

“They need me! Blue come on! You can be my eyes, we’ll do this together, just go!” he begged. Nothing but silence, occasionally thrumming with the distant muffled explosions from the rest of the team. Blue’s dark stubborn colors filling Lance’s thoughts through their connection. His fingers dug themselves into the metal of the seat.

“Please… I need you to be my eyes, Blue, I need to get out there… ” Lance whispered pleadingly. His hands were shaking with frustration as they reached forward to search his once familiar manual control panel, looking for the cabin release lever. “If you wont take me out of the castle, then at least let me back out to make sure Allura and Coran are covered.”

Clouds of navy blue.

_‘No.’_

She’d trapped him.

She had decided he was unfit. Not because he had become less worthy to her, but because this sentient, magnificent weapon had decided Lance was too precious to risk. The colors she sent to his mind, punctuated by swirls of sorrowful dark blue, told him she was mourning what she hadn’t protected. Lance and Blue had defended Lotor’s direct attack that day, but Blue had failed to withstand the damage they had taken. She was grieving for him, and what she felt she had robbed him of. 

A millenias-old lion’s grief was the color of murky pond water. 

Lance sat in the cockpit, trapped by her pity and regret, while the rest of his team fought on without him. He knew they would overpower whatever fleet had been sent to them -Lotor wasn’t in the business of hunting Voltron like his father, after all- it wasn’t likely it was any forces under the Prince’s command. They wouldn’t need Lance to defend the castle or make an escape, definitely not when he couldn’t see anymore.

They wouldn’t need a blind gunman. He’d sit, safe as houses, and wouldn’t be a hero to anyone.

“Sorry Blue, I can't.” 

Lance’s hands found home on the emergency eject lever, and Blue’s jaw opened to instantly release the entire pilot chair out onto the hanger floor. The fall was jarring- Lance’s head swam with the force of impact and the flashing colors of alarm Blue was sending to him. 

_'Let her be annoyed'_ , Lance thought as his hands scrambled to release the latches on the seat’s restraint belts. 

He staggered to his feet, momentarily stumbling like a newborn foal as his middle ear re-centered him. He had approximate awareness of where the walls were, the explosions of distant lasers sending vibrations through the ship that surprisingly helped to slowly guide him. Now, however, he had to be fast to be of any help at all. 

The climb up through the castle truly was that. While he had the route from the control deck to his room memorized, getting anywhere else without his eyesight was a struggle of memory and tactile senses. 

He’d activated his bayard and kept it gripped firmly in one hand with a finger on the trigger, not knowing if there were any Galra inside the castle ship that could get the jump on him. He supposed now even if they were directly in front of him, they’d still very much take him by surprise. The foot soldiers were generally louder and much less agile than any of the Paladins, easy enough to handle one-on-one ordinarily. But Lance hadn’t been blind for nearly long enough to make himself into some kind of Matt Murdock, and there was a sickening lump in his throat knowing that he could very well be as helpless as everyone was treating him. 

The corridors felt different like this. Having to drag himself along the walls with his hand feeling the way in front of him was time consuming and the friction irritated his palms. The anxiety of it all was exhausting him with how rapidly his heart was hammering as he moved. He was half tempted to kick off his shoes in an attempt to feel the vibrations from the laser cannons to at least get an idea of which direction the majority of the fighting was taking place on, but those deep thrums of pressure moving through the ship were beginning to die off. Lance could only assume that meant the rest of his team had, at the very least, drawn attention away from the castle.

His hands found the small panel for the elevator, and braced his whole body as he heard the doors hiss open. Instinct made him raise his blaster and point it into the lift, ready at a pin-drop if there was any sound of Galra soldier’s armor scraping from within. There wasn’t, but the air didn’t leave his lungs with relief, and his steps into the lift were unsteady and hesitant all the same. He couldn’t see the pad that displayed the floor levels. Memory told him upper right hand corner would take him to the command deck, but as his fingers slid over the pulse sensor and the cabin lurched upward, Lance’s whole body shook.

What was he doing?

What would he do if there had been an invasion on the ship? Shoot blindly and possibly take out members of his own team? Damage centuries old equipment needed to defend them from whatever attack was taking place? He felt the determination to help the team and be of use slow in its surge through his veins. He’d blame it on the elevator’s climb upward giving him time to cower in his self-doubt, made all the worse with the isolation of being blind.

He didn’t even have his paladin armor on. If anything, he supposed he could get the jump on a Galra soldier by way of surprise. Some bean pole teenager in jeans and a t-shirt jumping out from behind a corridor, blind as a bat, shooting wildly into what could very well be literal space. Maybe as they took the time to laugh at the sight of him, they’d prove easy targets even for a blind boy clinging desperately to his usefulness. 

Blue sends billows of turbulent indigo at the edges of his anxiety, but it’s the shade of her concern, not her support. He didn’t want her indigo.

The elevator slowed to a stop, there was no lurch or shudder like ones on Earth, but Lance was unsteady all the same as he slid along the wall to tuck himself against the control panel. The doors hissed opened automatically, and Lance braced for the sound of any possible heavy boot scraping on the floor grating. Again, he heard nothing, and continued his grueling crawl against the corridor walls.

He heard Allura’s voice first, shouting orders to Coran, and Lance could have cried in relief that he’d hit the correct floor level. His steps grew bolder and faster knowing the command deck was straight ahead, but he kept his palm against the wall to steady himself anyway.

He could feel the thrum of the particle barrier up and running at full defense now that he was closer, and it occurred to him he’d never noticed that it changed the energy in the ship when it was activated. It made him uneasy, like there was a static in his brain that he didn’t need right now.

Allura’s commands pulled him around the edge of the doorway into the main deck, where he remained pressed against the wall for a moment longer.

“Paladins, do not engage pursuit- let them retreat!” the princess shouted, then a moment later, “Keith! I don’t care! Disengage!”

Lance’s heart was hammering in his chest, ratcheting a beat too high to be calm at the sound of possibly enemy retreat. The Galra wouldn’t just abandon an attack, especially if only four of the five Lions were defending. Something was up, but what, Lance hardly had the capacity to wonder.

Had they breached the castle? Were they on board after all, and that’s why the attack squadron was fleeing? Was the battle outside a distraction, and now that chance had been taken? He slid closer into the room, teeth biting into his lower lip until he reached the very edge of the doorway.

“Lance!” Coran’s shout startled the Blue Paladin so much he nearly tripped over his own legs as he jumped. 

“Lance?! Why are you- why aren’t you in a safe room?!” Allura called out as he slid from the wall fully into the main room. He heard Coran run to meet him halfway before he felt an outstretched hand gently stopping him from going any further. He didn’t mind it, he’d made it to them, as long as he held this position between them and the door he’d make it work.

“I came to help watch your backs.” Lance said with every ounce of false confidence he could manage at the moment, which judging by the way his voice wavered, wasn’t very much.

“A valiant intention, my boy, but I’d imagine that’s a bit impossible for you currently!” Coran scolded, though there was something in his tone that was heavy with pity. Lance clutched tighter at his rifle.

“I might not have my eyes but I have everything else!” he argued, gesturing with his gun toward the way he came. “If there was a breach on the ship you two would be sitting ducks while you’re focused on the team! I’m not going to be sitting tight in the kiddie room while you’re left open.”

“Lance, the battle outside the ship is over, the Galra fleet have retreated. And there are protocols on this ship that would alert us to any-” Allura’s voice was commanding, but Lance suddenly froze, losing track of the rest of what she was saying.

He heard boots. Multiples. Distant but growing louder, and coming in hot from just beyond the main hallway. 

A chill ran up his spine. Heavy steps, like they were laden with armor. He couldn’t hear it as clearly as he’d like, Allura and Coran were still scolding him and continued to do so despite him trying to wave them off so he could focus. He felt that hot panic again. 

The ship had been breached. 

He pulled his blaster up and let it fall quickly with practiced ease into the cradle of his shoulder. He wasn’t sure if Coran or Allura could hear the weighted rushing steps pounding toward the command deck, but with the sounds of thrumming field generator and alarms, he doubted it. Time seemed to blend anything else into a thick paste around his ears.

The bootfalls were rounding the hall corner. 

“Get down!” He shouted over his shoulder, pivoting his legs to point himself back toward the corridor. His finger held the trigger firmly, but his whole body shook. 

Good lord he was about to get in a direct shoot-out with Galra forces he couldn’t even see. What was he doing? _He couldn't see._

And then it was like the thick cloy of time and noise and terror folded in on him, just as the invading soldiers breeched the corridor.

Lance fired off two shots before he was taken down, and he knew instantly neither had hit. It didn't matter.

Coran and Allura pinned him firmly to the ground, blaster returning to its bayard form, kicked away far from his empty grasp. Coran’s knee a solid pressure against his spine bringing more clarity to his clouded mind, and he slowly gained more presence back. Several loud voices. Angry voices. Recognizable, familiar, and definitely not Galran. 

“Lance! What were you thinking?! It was Pidge!” Allura shouted from her perch on his back, shin planted against his shoulder blades.

“Pidge?” Lance’s voice was slurred from confusion and panic, blank white eyes darting across the floor and scarred eyebrows furrowed.

“Lance, it's us.” Shiro’s voice came through clearly; stern, but absolutely worried. “It was just us. You… you almost shot Pidge.”

There were hands helping to pull him up now, though he couldn’t say he knew who they belonged to once he had roughly 280lbs of Altean removed from his back. He heard a similar sound a few feet away, and the Green Paladin’s muttered ‘thank you’. She’d fallen to dodge. Or had been pushed out of the way.

Of him.

Lance’s blood ran cold.

He’d thought they were Galran soldiers. He heard their rushed return, heard their boots, and let his blindness induced panic take over, creating a scenario that wasn’t happening. He’d created a need for himself to be used as a weapon and protect Allura and Coran from danger that wasn't even real. 

“Pidge..?” he whispered again, shocked at the rough tone of horror in his own voice. 

“It’s okay.” she answered, from somewhere distantly in front of him. “It’s fine, I’m fine. You were scared. I get it”

“The hell its ‘fine’! You could have killed her!” Keith interrupted, striding forward and grabbing of fist-full of Lance’s shirt, shaking him hard.

“Keith!” Hunk started, but the Red paladin wasn’t relenting. 

“You’re _blind_ , Lance! If you try to play a hero like this again, you’ll get all of us killed! The only thing we have less use for than a blind soldier is a dead one-”

“Keith, that is **_enough_**.” Shiro’s tone was sharp like the crack of a guillotine. Lance’s knuckles were white where he gripped Keith’s wrists, releasing abruptly when Keith shoved him away as he stormed from the room. Lance stared wide eyed at nothing in his wake. 

There was a long beat of silence before Shiro left after him, and Lance flinched when a hand touched his softly.

“Lance.” Pidge said quietly. “I’m okay. I don’t blame you. It’s okay.”

Lance stared at nothing, not responding. 

It wasn’t okay.

 

\--

 

“You lied to me, Lance. You told me you would stay in the hanger with Blue.” Hunk’s disappointment was thick in his voice, and Lance flinched back from the harsh tone.

“I know.” he replied, fingers scraping at the soft skin around his finger nails. He couldn’t hear anything from the larger boy for a long moment, and wondered if Hunk was just looking at him the way he imagined he was. Upset and betrayed. He had every right to be.

“You have no idea how lucky you are that it wasn't any of Lotor's forces who'd attacked us earlier, theres not a chance he would have called that retreat. What if we _did_ have an invasion on the ship, and we were all still outside fighting them off? Lance, what if you accidentally ended up somewhere totally far away from anyone who could have helped you in time if there had been a breach?” Hunk lectured, each interrogating question like ice down the Blue paladin’s spine.

“Blue wouldn’t start.”

“What?”

“Blue. She wouldn’t turn on.” Lance dug deeper at the hangnail on his left hand, “She opened up, let me get in, but then wouldn’t start. Then she wouldn’t let me out. I had to hit the emergency release lever.”

“Well, good!” there was the sound of Hunk’s hands rustling his clothing as he gestured with his arms. “Blue wanted you to stay put too! It was to keep you _safe_ , dude! Why were you trying to get out when you had told me you’d stay with her?!”

“I thought... maybe I could fight using her as my eyes. She could tell me when to fire, when to move, I could pilot through her! It wouldn’t have been breaking a promise if I was technically still _with_ her.”

Hunk was silent again, then he sighed. 

“Lance, that would have been so incredibly dangerous. And stupid.” he said, just sounding tired now. “She clearly knew that it wouldn’t work like that, not in a real battle, and not when your actual life is on the line.”

“I had to try!” Lance insisted, clenching his fist.

“Why?!”

“Because all I have is this!” Lance ripped his bayard from his side and threw it. He heard it clatter to the polished metal floor but didn’t care how far it ended up from him. “If I can’t fight, what am I even still doing here?! If I can’t help save the universe anymore, why can’t I just go _home_?!”

Hunk didn’t reply, so the silence was filled with Lance’s own heavy breathing. His throat hurt and his cheeks were wet. It annoyed him even more.

“Look... I get it, man.” Hunk said, his tone low and suddenly much less scolding. “Just because you’re blind, doesn’t mean you will be forever. We want to keep you safe in the meantime, but thats impossible if you're actively putting yourself in situations where you can get hurt because _you_ don't care if you do. We’re still looking for ways to help you, you just have to trust us a bit more and give us some time. There’s so many planets out here, Lance, I know one of them, a non-Galra one, will have a way to help you.”

Lance wanted to scream but it died somewhere between his gut and his throat.

“I do trust you guys.” he said, running his hands through his hair wearily. “I’m just… frustrated.”

Hunk stood silently for a long moment, then Lance heard the scrape of what was probably the older boy picking up his bayard.

“You’d really want to go back to Earth without us? Even without your eyes fixed?”

Lance sighed.

“No, I’m just- it’s not like that. You know, where we’re from, people don’t usually just get this kind of stuff patched up. It’s like you all said, we have to deal with this assuming I won’t ever be able to see again. And if that’s the case, what reason do I have to still be here at all? I'm just a.. a _passenger_.”

“You’re still a Paladin, Lance. We can’t form Voltron without you.” Hunk sounded so sincere it hurt Lance’s heart to have to disagree with him.

“Well right now, you can’t form Voltron _with_ me, either.”

“We will soon though, I know it.” Hunk’s footsteps carried him over to the bench, and he set the blue bayard down at Lance’s side. “I have to go see if Keith has calmed down, you gonna be okay?”

Lance shot a pointed look in what he hoped was Hunk’s direction.

“Right, duh.” the larger paladin continued with a wince, “Sorry.. But if it cheers you up at all, I think Shiro was going to head up here in a bit. Or do you want me to tell him to just give you some space for some 'Lance Time'?”

“Oh sure, and make it sound like I’m jerkin’ it in the control room? Yeah that’d be great, man.” Lance drawled sarcastically. A throat cleared behind him from across the room, and Lance felt ten years of his life leave his body.

“I don’t think that particular thought would have crossed my mind, actually.” Shiro said with an amused tone as he came to join them. 

“Smooth move, buddy.” Hunk whispered to his friend, tapping at the table in front of Lance before clapping him on the shoulder. 

“Yeah thanks for the heads up on that one, thanks for the warning.” Lance snapped at him without much malice while Hunk whistled casually as he walked his way out of the command deck. Lance groaned and scrubbed at his face, already feeling the weight of Shiro’s presence across from him. He really hoped he didn’t make a complete fool of himself again while the older man read him the riot act for being as stupid as he had been.

Though he deserved every word of it.

 

\---

 

Shiro recalled plenty of times when Lance looked this bedraggled and worn down, especially after the incident that took his vision. He looked the same now as he had the other times, but with his white eyes staring off into nothing and body language pulled tightly around himself, it painted a much emptier picture. 

Lance had tried to take action, and had failed. Shiro knew Lance was self-sacrificing, he knew he’d do anything for the rest of them, and he knew the younger man was probably deep in his guilt for what could have happened to Pidge. Of course the girl had brushed it off, understood completely that it was an accident, but it was something that would weigh heavily on both of them. Keith's comments were far too harsh, Shiro had told him as much, and gotten nowhere with that conversation. Keith would be furious for a while yet, most likely until Hunk came to talk him down. 

He wasn't sure what he wanted to talk through with Lance. What could he say? Reassurance meant nothing to someone who just nearly killed their friend by their own negligence. Shiro had killed people, probably more than he could even remember, and there was nothing anyone could tell him to make it okay. Lance hadn't killed Pidge, but it had been a very near thing. If Coran hadn't realized in time and knocked his blaster from his hands, those two shots that burned into the wall 9 inches from Pidge's head would have found home where Lance would never have meant them to. But accident or not, alive or not, Lance had done it.

And so, Shiro supposed the talk he'd need to have was more along the lines of 'why'. Why was it so important for Lance to treat himself with the same abandon that he had when he could still see, made more far more reckless now that he couldn't.

“Lance, whatever you’re trying to prove, you don’t have to. You have to stop taking risks like this, especially now.” Shiro said quietly, looking at the boy across from him and the way he held his arms so tightly around his middle. Lance was chewing on the inside of his lip. Hunk had told Shiro about Lance’s nervous oral habits, worried that now that he’d lost his vision, they could metastasize into something more damaging that Lance wouldn’t even realize he was making worse. 

“You know, it occurred to me,” Lance started softly after a long moment of silence, his blank white eyes looking up and away from Shiro. “all the stuff I’ve been going through since i woke up in the pod after Lotor's attack. The whole 'wanting to still be someone useful' thing, to still be a hero... I had that kind of problem even before I lost my eyes.

“I want so badly to still be able to help everyone. I hate that _I_ have to be worried over now and kept out of the way. ‘Cause it’s not like I stopped worrying about any of _you_ , or about Earth, or all those other planets. Knowing I’m totally useless without my eyes, just-”

“We don’t think you’re useless, Lance. Keith was just in shock when he said that.”

“The problem isn’t you thinking I am, but the _fact_ that I am.” he interrupted, not letting Shiro deter him from what he had to say. Shiro pursed his lips, but let Lance continue. He wanted him to get everything out in the open, even if he hated discovering what had been inside of Lance all this time.

"I shoot the guns.” the Blue Paladin sighed, “When I’m not forming Voltron with everyone else, my only skill comes from how good a shot I am. I’m not a genius tech wiz, or some prodigy superboy with a destiny and a mysterious origin story. I’m the gun. 

“I don’t know what to do with myself if I can’t do the one thing I was sort of good at. Taking a shot and hitting a target was the only thing that ever got you to look twice at me, let alone make me feel like I was contributing anything. Knowing I lost the only thing I could do that made you give me a second glance sucks a lot more than I ever thought I’d be ready to handle.” 

Shiro flinched, his chest tightening painfully as Lance’s words sunk in. 

“You think I don’t look at you?” he asked softly. Lance’s head shifted in his direction, lips pursed tight for a second. 

“I just… I don’t think it ever really occurred to you that there was anything there to see.” 

The sobering realization that _Lance was right_ hit Shiro like a slow motion punch straight in his gut. 

He knew he played favorites. Refusing to acknowledge that would have been irresponsible on his part. It was one of those things he knew he needed to work at, but just always told himself there would be time for later. He'd wanted to know Lance better, of course he had, the boy was magnetic and interesting. Any time Shiro found himself laughing or smiling again, more often than not Lance was the cause, it was something Shiro appreciated and meant a lot to him. But, the minute he had the presence of mind to give that effort back toward Lance and actually spend one-on-one time with him, something would come up. A battle would need to be won, a planet liberated, something urgent and intense happening with Keith. Always something more important, and too often something not important at all. 

And he realized now that Lance had always noticed. This whole time he'd felt it, but just kept swinging with it. He’d acclimated to what he saw as the status quo of the team. It was never a problem with Lance, because he never saw it as an issue, only as the normal way of things. 

Shiro had allowed Lance to roll with the assumption that he had no importance outside of his value as a weapon for the team, because Shiro hadn’t taken the time like he had with Keith or Pidge to let him feel otherwise. Lance had accepted his role so effortlessly and without complaint that he’d never allowed it to become an issue Shiro needed to give more immediate attention to. The ideal soldier for any team. 

And now Lance lost that one thing he thought Shiro found him useful for, and it had made him reckless to the point his own life wasn’t worth as much in comparison. Lance, stripped of his value as ‘the gun’, saw offering up his life when the opportunity presented itself to be ‘just as good’. 

“I’m sorry, Lance.” Shiro stepped closer, tapping his metal fingers softly on the tabletop to give Lance a warning of his proximity. The younger man’s head turned toward the sound, and he closer his scarred eyes with a sigh. 

“You don’t have anything t-” 

“I do. You know I do.” Shiro interrupted firmly. “I want to tell you that I value you as more than just what you can do with your bayard, but I know that would be pretty much impossible to expect you to believe right now. I’ve gone too long treating you as just a gunman and a soldier, not talking to you as a friend. It would be selfish of me to expect you to even give me another chance right now.” 

He leaned forward and clapped both hands on Lance’s shoulders, feeling the boy instinctively sit up just slightly straighter. Lance’s pale white irises searched for Shiro’s face before he simply stared downward with a slightly surprised curve to his eyebrows. 

“If it’s okay with you,” Shiro continued “I want to actually get to know you, Lance. Right now. At least a little bit, to start.” 

Lance wrung his hands in his lap, his face turning red beneath the scar tissue. 

“Um- I mean, it’s okay, you don’t have to just because I can’t see anymore or whatever. I’d rather you not treat me as some charity case..” he mumbled hastily, bringing his hands up to hide his face on the off chance his scars weren’t covering how hot his face felt. 

“If I wanted to get to know you because of pity because you were hurt, I probably would have tried harder after you got yourself blown up saving Coran.” 

Lance huffed a half hearted laugh, he didn’t need eyes to see the sideways smile Shiro had in his voice. 

“By the way,” there was a quick tap on his forearm to alert him, and then the older man’s hands were touching Lance’s wrists, gently pulling them away from his face. “You don’t have to hide your eyes like that, I’m the last person who’d judge you for a new scar or two.” 

“Sorry,” Lance mumbled, pretending to scratch at his chin to deflect the intention. 

“Alright, before anything else happens that could prevent me from getting to know our Blue Paladin better, tell me something about yourself.” Shiro said, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting on the edge of the table beside the younger man. Lance seemed flustered, his blank irises darted across his eyes. Shiro wondered if he'd ever really paid this much attention to Lance up close before. 

“L-like what?” 

“Anything. I remember from our mind melding training, you have a big family right? It’s probably why you’re so good with Pidge, she's a tough kid, but she thinks really highly of you. You act like a big brother to her so easily, so you must have some little sisters like her back home, yeah?” 

Lance huffs, leaning back in his seat and tilting his head to the side. 

“I’m the youngest, actually” he replied “My older brother and his wife have two little kids though, I’d watch them during summers.” 

“Are they Pidge’s age?” 

“Nah, they’re like five and seven. Crazed little goblins if they get sugar in ‘em.” 

“Sounds like a handful.” 

“Oh not at all, they worship me. I am their King.” 

“So that’s where that comes from.” Shiro chuckled, leaning back against the table and bracing his weight on his arms to get a better look at the younger paladin. 

They talked stiffly a bit more on having younger relatives. Shiro could only relate with his memories of new freshmen he'd taught in his very short time as TA at the Garrison for the places where he couldn’t supply any younger family members of his own. He watched Lance carefully the whole time, making sure through the teen’s body language if the topic of family was crossing over into melancholic. However, as they made small talk, it seemed to have the opposite effect. 

Lance’s posture was slowly relaxing, the stiffness of his spine seemed to release as they allowed the nostalgia. Shiro hoped this was the boy he hadn’t had the time to meet yet, the Lance who Hunk and Pidge seemed so incredibly fond of. At the same time it was upsetting to him that he'd been missing out on this. Often times willfully. It was no wonder Lance often bragged about his charm, and that was just when he was more-so 'playing a part'. Shiro was starting to understand just how easy it was to become so fond of him, the real Lance that his close friends knew, within just minutes of simply putting in the effort. 

“My sister runs a flower shop back in Miami.” Lance continued after a beat of silence, his tone suddenly softening from awkward to affectionate with memory. “She taught me all the meanings to like, flowers and plants and stuff.” 

“Yeah? What does a...” Shiro hummed thoughtfully for a moment, he didn't really know many flowers. “What does a lilac mean?” 

“Patience.” Lance answered. 

“Really?” 

“No.” Lance laughed and shrugged “I don’t remember.” 

"I thought she taught you the meanings!” Shiro accused, a grin creeping at his lips. 

“Dude, I’m an 18 year old boy, you think I retained any of it? Your older sister tells you some shrub from a poem means ‘fondest memories’, you don’t exactly carry that with you to Space School.” 

Shiro laughed, and Lance smiled. This much was good, Shiro could feel it. Lance’s smile was there, and it felt genuine. He was wholly noticing it. Nothing about Lance at this moment had anything to do with Voltron, or the war, or his eyes. It was just Lance. 

Yes, something terrible had happened to him, and no amount of friendly chatting would change that, but getting to know him while they searched for a means to fix things was all too suddenly incredibly important to Shiro. How had he overlooked it all this time? Why had Shiro just accepted the way Lance rolled with things the same way Lance had himself, and for so long? When all this time, _this_ Lance had been there, hiding his genuine smile behind a false bravado and reckless abandon. Hiding a smile like that, that Shiro had never seen because he'd never thought to look. He was glad, regardless of the circumstances, that he'd started looking now. 

Then, for some absolutely stupid reason, Shiro reached out with and brushed his fingers just along the edge of Lance’s cheek. 

Lance reeled back and his hands moved to immediately cover his scars, knocking Shiro’s fingers away. 

“Sorry!” Lance apologized, his shoulders up around his ears and every part of him looking uncomfortable and flustered “You just- I just got surprised, sorry.” 

“No no, I’m sorry, I- uh, I shouldn’t just be t- uh, surprising you like that without warning.” Shiro stammered, flexing his fingers in mid-air, unsure of where to put his hands now. He stood up quickly and hooked both of them behind his back. 

“I didn’t mean to react like that, i just couldn’t see you coming.” Lance tried reassuring him, reaching out hesitantly to where Shiro had been sitting, and the older man winced slightly when Lance’s hand touched only the table edge. He didn’t really know why he felt the need to put physical distance between them, so when Lance’s eyebrows turned down slightly when his fingers met the tabletop, there was a pang of strange guilt in Shiro’s gut. 

“No, it’s understandable, seriously.” the Black paladin said, moving a few steps back from the table as Lance stood up. 

"Yeah, uh, I think I should go to my room now. I think the adrenaline has worn off enough to get some sleep.” the younger boy announced, the air of awkwardness back in his tone. "Thank you, for just... talking to me." 

“Oh- sure! It's no problem. Do you need help getting back?” Shiro offered before he could stop himself. Lance frowned as Shiro openly cringed. 

“Uh, no. I told you, I have the route to my room memorized. I think I can handle it.” 

“Right. Sorry, again. Be safe.” Shiro dragged his hand down over his own face as he silently mouthed a horrified repetition of ‘be safe’ to himself, wishing a hole would open up in space and suck him out of the room. Lance’s face scrunched up as he turned to leave. 

“Uh…. yeah… you too?” 

It took Lance a bit longer than was natural to walk out to the main hallway, but Shiro watched him the whole way. When the door hissed shut and left him alone on the command deck, he immediately threw himself back into the sofa bench, slamming his head down on the table and bumping it there repeatedly. 

“‘Be safe’?? Good going Takashi, bet he feels real respected now.” he groaned, resting his head in his hands with a fistful of his white bangs. 

He’d been doing so well for a minute there, really starting to get Lance to show a bit more of his normal self. Why the hell had he decided to touch his _face_ like it was the most normal thing to do? 

Lance was blind now, and horrifically scarred, of course he would hate to be touched out of the blue like that. Shiro still didn’t like the idea of others touching areas of his body he knew the more disturbing scars were. And Lance was so particular about his appearance, the amount of scarring around his eyes and cheeks, bisecting through his eyebrows and eyelids, it wasn’t the same as some quick slash across his nose bridge like Shiro. Lance could no doubt feel the severity of it, even if he couldn’t see it. Physical contact from another person near such fresh scars was without a doubt the last thing Lance wanted at the moment. 

So why had Shiro wanted to? 

He sighed heavily and let his head fall back onto the table with a solid ‘thunk’. He’d have to come up with a more natural way to get Lance to let his guard down again the next time they had a moment to themselves. 

At least, for the moment, they had the benefit of time to work through it. 

\--- 

A quadrant of space, otherwise unoccupied by the main tendrils of the Empire, made itself a makeshift harbor for a fairly small Galran war ship. A distant anchorage from any habitable planets within their control, but within ear-shot of any passing message relays meant to slip past prying channels. 

Lotor sat in the commander’s chair, tapping a clawed finger to the arm rest as he scanned information codes on flickering holograms. 

“Lotor,” Acxa came to his side, back straight and expression stern. “We received word from the team sent to Voltron’s most recent location.” 

“And?” he smiled up at her, eyebrows raised in expectancy. 

“Based on the message from the informant in the Gelsor system, we can confirm that a Paladin has been critically injured in our last direct attack. They have been asking planet representatives outside the Empire for possible technology to restore eyesight to a human, and from word of the last recent attack party sent, the Blue Lion was not present in the defense of the Altean ship.” she reported. Lotor’s pleased smile had grown to a fully amused grin, and he laughed as he turned back to his screens. 

“Well! The Blue one, how unfortunate.” he drawled, clicking through code once again. “Now, what kind of future Emperor would I be if I didn’t extend a peace offering to the poor thing.” 

Acxa’s brows furrowed, but her posture was otherwise unchanged, waiting for further elaboration. 

“Contact the Witch’s Druids. I think I’d have something to offer the dear Blue paladin that he may find he’ll have a very difficult time refusing.” 

“And our heading?” 

“Put out a beacon to the Altean's ship,” Lotor said, voice light and seemingly in high spirits “Use the registry code of a smaller planet, one on the outskirts of whatever system you please. Let them believe the cure for their blind paladin can be found there, free of our Empire's influence.” 

“You intend to... assist the paladin? Without a functional Blue pilot, they cannot form Voltron, why not leave things as they are?” Acxa questioned, not used to being unsure about her Commander’s orders. Lotor offered her a humored glance. 

“I have always disliked potential left to rot.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--
> 
> sorry for the loooong delay! It's here now! As you can see I wrote most of this before season 3, so thats just kinda how it is lol Any concerns of 'why don't they just have Allura pilot Blue' will be addressed in later chapters! 
> 
> If you like my work, please consider [sending a tip to my ko-fi!](https://ko-fi.com/A4024EWU) I'm between jobs right now with school loans still calling, so any bit really helps me get by. thanks for the support everyone!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been a long time coming! I only just got a substantial enough word count to put out a first chapter, I apologize in advance for delays in future chapter updates.


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